Judith had been allotted a destination. I was at Gardie House when the notification came through to me, in code. It took me almost thirty minutes to decode it, after which it was put through the Ministry of Defence secure shredder in Captain William Lloyd’s office.
Together we looked the destination up on Google maps—on the shore line of Bragg Creek, near the Elbow River hamlet. It wasn’t far, about ten miles we guessed, from the centre of the oil-rich town of Calgary with its skyscraper office blocks, designer shops with plush restaurants and bars, as well as the Calgary Stampede, its massive July rodeo.
The so-called Canadian oil capital was a mere two hundred kilometres from the American border. Nor was she far from like-minded, sympathetic Russians. One, surprise, surprise, being Chr
